


That's Fashion, Baby

by anilad



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-23
Updated: 2013-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-27 09:40:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/977268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anilad/pseuds/anilad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick Kane, male model, lives in an apartment with a group of other male models. His latest in a series of weird roommates is Jonny, who is hot but really annoying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's Fashion, Baby

Pat had seen his share of strange behavior since starting out in the business as a fresh-faced child model. In his experience, models tended to be narcissistic and nervous people; watching any episode of America’s Next Top Model could tell you that. Not that Pat would ever admit to binge watching that show, mostly so he could shout at Tyra.

The typical model ‘personality’ showed itself in different and often bizarre ways. And after a few years living with a group of models, Pat felt like he’d seen it all. So his new roommate’s habit of working out daily in his underwear? Miles away from the worst. It was, however, getting really annoying. Jonny had only moved in three days ago, but Pat was over it. From the moment Jonny had walked and asked about switching beds (uh _no_ , obviously he’d picked the one he wanted for a reason and wasn’t giving it up), Pat hadn’t liked him.

He definitely hadn’t liked the way Sharpy, his agent and a former model himself, had mentioned Jonny was doing well in his bookings lately and that’s why he was rooming with them. Their group was made up of some of the best male models the Chelsea Agency had; they were all winners. Sharpy probably had mentioned Jonny’s success to spur some competitive spirit between them. He was a dick like that.

Pat hoped that the irritated glares he kept directing at Jonny would have some effect, but nope, nothing. Jonny continued his crunches like a well-oiled machine. Their room wasn’t very big, so the amount of floor space Jonny took up made it difficult to walk around. Not that Pat had anywhere he needed to be or anywhere he wanted to go, but it was the principle of the thing.

Having boundaries and rules was important. Otherwise you ended up coming back to group sex in your room or finding your roommate's stash of coke in your underwear drawer.

Pat wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve such terrible luck with roommates. The three other guys he shared the apartment with liked to joke that it was Pat who was driving them out. They were a bunch of weirdos themselves but nothing like the crazies he kept getting.

Tonight he did actually have an excuse for wanting to go to bed earlier. He had a go see in the morning and it was probably better if he didn’t have bags under his eyes. Pat decided he’d grab some water, get ready for bed, and if Jonny wasn’t done by then, they would have words.

Coming back into the room afterwards, he was oddly disappointed to see that Jonny had finished up and was sitting on his bed, checking his phone, also obviously ready to sleep. He hadn’t bothered to put on any other clothes. He was still only wearing his boxers briefs.

Irritated, Pat kicked some dirty socks on the floor as he walked over to his bed. Did the guy have to be messy on top of his weird workout habits?  Whatever, the important thing was he could go to sleep now and rock the go see in the morning. He was awesome and they would love him. Satisfied, Pat closed his eyes.  
  


....

The next day didn’t exactly start out as the success he had imagined the night before. For one thing, his demon-eyed roommate was also heading to the same go see. He knew Sharpy had wanted them vying against each other, but Pat didn’t know how that was going to work. Pat wasn’t sure who was booking models with angry robot faces, but they probably weren’t looking for angelic smiles and sculpted shoulders. 

Unless this was a group shoot that needed a variety of types. That could work, Pat thought. They were taking the train together and Pat snuck a look at Jonny.

He could admit, to himself at least, that Jonny had something appealing going on, even with his weirdo intensity. But then Pat had always been weak for dark hair. And so what if he found his roommate attractive, it wasn’t exactly a surprise that in an apartment rented by models everyone was good looking.

They were a little early for the go see but there were already a few other male models waiting. Pat propped himself up against the wall in clear view of the door. Jonny stood next to him. Pat glared at him, but Jonny didn’t seem to notice.

Pat watched as the guys who had gotten there before them were called into the room in pairs. He thought about moving closer to someone else, but gave the idea up. Jonny would probably just follow him.

They didn’t have to wait long, most of the pairs were in and out within minutes, which wasn’t unusual. It didn’t take long for the client to decide yes or no and have someone take a picture of you.

Pat overheard some of the other models coming out talking, apparently there was some hot shot photographer in with the client and he had a ‘vision. Pat wasn’t sure if that was good or not but it wasn’t like it mattered. This was just another job. Although it would be nice if he could get booked and Jonny didn’t.

After a few more minutes, they were called into the room by a nervous young woman with a clipboard. Pat made sure that he walked in first. He didn’t know if that helped or not but since he was shorter than Jonny, he didn’t want to be in his shadow, that was for sure.

The clipboard girl, possibly an intern, directed them to stand against the wall. Across from them, seated at a long folding table, were two men. The one dressed in a pair of skinny jeans, with a tee shirt and scarf, Pat figured was the client, they all wore some variation of that look like it was a uniform.

The client looked bored, but the photographer gave them a quick once over and a nod.

“Stand closer,” he told them. He nodded at them again when they did. “Why weren’t these the first two brought in? Those others, couldn't you see they were- ?” he made a dismissive gesture as he talked to the chipboard girl. “I see it with them. They tell the story perfectly,” he said to the client, who had been looking down at his phone.

The client gave them an assessing look and nodded his own approval. “I like them,” he said shortly and went back to scrolling through something on his phone.

The photographer looked pleased briefly before addressing the clipboard girl again brusquely. “Pictures then. One of each and then one with the two.”

The girl took Pat’s picture and then Jonny’s before motioning them to come together.

“Closer, closer,” the photographer barked out. Pat barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. Jonny shifted closer and on impulse, Pat slung his arm around Jonny’s neck, bringing their faces close.

“Yes,” the photographer said, satisfied. Pat could feel Jonny look at him, but Pat stared at the camera.

After that they were allowed to go. On the train ride home, Jonny kicked at Pat’s feet to get his attention. They hadn’t said anything much to each other all day, and nothing since they’d left the go see.

“Looks like we’re both in it for that shoot,” Jonny said. 

“Might be. But can’t count on it,” Pat replied with a shrug. He’d been disappointed by a positive go see in the past. He was sure Jonny had been too, but he wasn’t going to bring that up. Jonny raised his eyes brows and then looked away.  
  


....

Sharpy called a few hours later.

“How’s the roommate situation? Is this one as ‘crazy’ as the last couple?” Sharpy asked slyly. He always started conversations out like that, as if he wanted to catch Pat off guard.  

“I can hear your sarcasm, Sharpy, and I don’t appreciate it. You know the one before last locked himself in the bathroom for thirty-six hours straight, you were the one who talked him out of trying to escape through the window,” Pat reminded him. Sharpy made a noise through the phone that sounded like a muffled laugh.

“I’m not convinced you didn’t drive him to that. You were the common denominator between all of these guys,” Sharpy said over Pat’s protests, “But I didn’t call you to argue about that. You got a booking from that go see this morning. Jonny did, too.” Pat didn’t say anything.

“Apparently, you two had ‘great chemistry’,” Sharpy prodded. Pat didn’t know what to say to that.

“Did you tell Jonny?” he asked finally.

“You’re my favorite, Peeks, of course I called you first,” Sharpy told him.

“Yeah?” Pat said skeptically.

“I maybe texted Toes,” Sharpy admitted. Pat could practically hear him shrugging through the phone. “Anyway, I’ll send you the details and you two can go off into the sunset together. Two happy little peas in your Peek-a-Pod.”

“That’s awful, Sharpy.”

“I know.” He didn’t sound at all sorry. Pat rolled his eyes.

“But really, how’s it going with you two?” he asked, sounding almost serious. Pat didn’t believe it for a minute but he knew if he didn’t give Sharpy something, he wouldn’t have peace.

“He’s fine,” Pat said.

“Oh, yeah? How fine?” Sharpy asked, with an insinuating tone Pat didn’t like. It’s not like Sharpy could know that Pat had been trying to avoid his stupid attraction to his roommate. He hadn’t said anything. Of course that was probably enough for Sharpy. He hadn’t been complaining enough about Jonny so now Sharpy assumed Pat liked him.

“Fuck you,” he said and immediately regretted it.

Sharpy made a delighted sound that should have been beneath the dignity of an adult man. But then no one who knew him would ever accuse him of having any. Pat decided to cut his losses and ended the call.  
  


.....

The shoot was scheduled at night on a rooftop. It was nasty hot, even a few hours past sundown. Bad news for Pat and his hair, which really didn’t like humidity. 

Pat wasn’t completely sure what they were advertising. But to be honest, he usually wasn’t. He didn’t need to be. In most ads, he was a background for the girl who was actually modeling the product. He was just there to sell their sexual appeal.He noticed that there weren’t any women at this shoot, apparently it was just going to be him and Jonny.

Wardrobe was some kind of Roman fantasy theme. Pat was pinned into a bolt of fabric until he was more or less in a toga, while Jonny was shirtless with a cape and skirt. It was weird but at least neither of them were naked.

The lighting was still being set up even after they were done with hair and makeup, leaving Pat and Jonny to awkwardly stand off to the side and try to stay out of the way. Pat couldn’t help noticing how the eyeliner the makeup artist had used around Jonny’s eyes made him look even more intense.

 _Keep it together, Pat,_ he told himself. _Togas hide nothing._

With that in mind, he pulled out his phone as a distraction. He’d heard it vibrate in his bag while he had been getting fitted for the sheet around his waist. The wardrobe guy had slapped his hand, even though Pat hadn’t made a move to grab it. Maybe he’d looked at his bag, but that was all.

It was Sharpy who’d texted him, _blue steele it up tonight peeks._

 _jonny’s more derek zoolander than me_ , Pat sent back.

Within a minute he got, _that makes you hansel then._

He laughed but didn’t send anything back. Sharpy didn’t need to be encouraged. Jonny looked over and raised an eyebrow.

“Sharpy,” Pat said. Jonny nodded but he still looked confused. “He just likes to fuck with me.”

“Yeah,” Jonny said. He looked like he was thinking about something. “You guys seem close. Like a lot closer than I’ve ever been with an agent.” It was a statement, but Jonny was phrasing it as more of a question.

“Oh yeah, he’s been my agent for the last couple years. He’s the one who keeps sticking with me these, uh- “ Pat stopped himself, he’d been about to complain about his string of wackjob roommates before remembering who he was talking to.  “I mean, he just likes to get on my case about everything,” he finished lamely.

“Right, but other than that it’s business with you two?” Jonny asked. He had flushed a little. Pat wasn’t sure what he meant, but before he could say anything else a PA called them over to the front of the camera. The set was finally ready.

The photographer gave them some vague instructions, telling Pat, who he referred to as ‘blondie’, to stand toward the foreground with Jonny behind him.

Jonny smirked. “Blondie,” he mouthed at Patrick.

Pat shrugged. “What can I say, I’m golden.”

“Yes, yes, I like the aggression between you,” the photographer told them, leering. He took a few shots before telling Jonny to place his hand on Pat’s shoulder.

His hand was hot but dry on Pat’s bare skin. The lights were already making him sweat and he could feel how the slickness on his shoulder smoothed the way for Jonny to rub his fingers in slightly. The photographer grunted in approval and took a shot.

As the photographer directed them into different positions, time started to blur. Pat had no idea how long they’d been in front of the camera. The only way to mark the time was by how much hotter he seemed to get as the night dragged on.

At some point the photographer had Jonny standing close behind Pat, offset to the right enough that his thigh could curve around the outside of Pat’s. It felt possessive and Pat had to fight the urge to close his eyes.

The photographer called a five minute break, probably more for himself than for anyone else. Pat heard the light snick noise as Jonny pulled away, their damp skin coming unstuck from each other. He couldn’t stop himself from closing his eyes then.

“You okay?” Jonny asked. Pat opened his eyes.

He could see Jonny’s eyes, the pupils shrunk small in the bright lights, grow darker as Jonny moved his face closer to Pat’s.

Pat licked his lips, tasting salt.

“Yeah,“ he said vaguely. They were still so close. “You?”

Jonny didn’t respond for a moment, still searching Pat’s face for something. Pat didn’t know what.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Jonny told him.

“Good, good.” They still hadn’t moved.

“Guys, you probably need these,” a PA had walked over with a bottle of water for each of them. Jonny glared at her briefly before taking them both and handing one to Pat. He finally moved out of Pat’s space then. Neither of them thanked her and she walked off with a huff, muttering about ungrateful models.

The break was short, and Pat hadn’t had more than half of his water before the photographer was back.

“Okay, okay, we ready?” he asked, without pausing to listen to them.

The rest of the shoot wasn’t any better. Pat felt like he was breathing through water and the photographer started motioning the makeup people to come over periodically and blot his face and body. Jonny didn’t seem to need it as much, which irritated Pat.

But he knew Jonny wasn’t unaffected by it, not the heat or whatever it was that was going on between them. At one point Jonny muttered, “Fuck, it’s hot,” right into Pat’s ear.

Pat knew he wasn’t just talking about the weather. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning a little more heavily into Jonny every time they were posed suggestively. He’d started to feel like the shoot was a scene from some faux-Roman times porno. The thought didn’t stop it from being any less hot.  

He wasn’t the only one who felt it. During a the blotting sessions, a makeup artist said, “Jesus, why don’t the two of you just make out already.” She was only half joking. Thankfully, she didn’t say it loud enough for the photographer to hear; after all the dubious direction he’d been giving them, Pat didn’t doubt that he’d take her comment as a great suggestion.

Pat didn’t think his heart (or his dick) could take that. He’d been holding on to every non-sexy thought he could imagine, trying not to get hard. It wasn’t working completely, he could feel himself getting heavier every time he broke concentration, but he also hadn’t pitched an obvious tent in his toga so he was considering it a win.

If he was asked to kiss Jonny, he knew all his work would go out the window and he’d embarrass himself in front of the whole crew. But then, he had a feeling Jonny would too.

He couldn’t stop himself from smiling at Jonny, which Jonny returned immediately. At least they were in this hell together.

“No, that’s not what I want,” the photographer growled. Pat startled, most of their feedback had been good through the shoot. Obviously the photographer prefered the barely veiled sexual tension to any kind of friendliness between his models. “We’re close, I think, one or two more and we’ll be ready to wrap.”

Pat felt himself relax, just a little, which was a mistake because that meant he wasn’t ready for the next words to come out of the photographers mouth.

“How about you,” he pointed at Jonny, “lean around and just put your mouth against blondie’s neck.” Pat thought the photographer’s tone was almost gleeful, but he couldn’t be sure because all of the blood had left his head. He wasn’t capable of rational thinking.

Pat felt the hot, wet circle of Jonny’s mouth touch him tentatively. He randomly cycled his thoughts on icicles, his ancient third grade math teacher, fucking Coca Cola polar bears, anything to keep his traitorous dick from filling up.

He must’ve looked pained or anxious because the photographer called out, “Blondie, relax, he’s not on your cock.”

That helped not at all. Pat felt the slight flush he’d had throughout the shoot darkening at photographer’s words. Jonny let out a puff of air against Pat’s skin. Pat wasn’t sure if was in sympathy or from laughter. Either way, it weirdly helped to focus him.

Not enough that he really pulled himself out of the fog, but whatever was showing on his face must’ve pleased the photographer because the man didn’t say another word for a few minutes as he took a few more shots.

“Alright, I think that’s it,” he said finally.

“Thank god,” Pat said.

“Yeah,” Jonny agreed fervently.

Pat looked at Jonny, something he’d been avoiding since their last break unless the shot had called for it.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he said. Jonny nodded.

In record time, they stripped from their wardrobe, getting back into their street clothes.

They had to share an elevator down with a few people, so they kept some space between them, exchanging a heated look now and then. The PA who’d given them the water was smirking at them, but thankfully she didn’t comment.

When they finally got out into the street and away from the crowd of crew, Pat stopped abruptly. It felt twenty degrees cooler now, away from the bright set lights and without the eyes of all the crew on them.

Pat bit his lip, uncomfortably unsure for once. When they were up on the roof, he thought he knew exactly what he’d do as soon as they were alone but now he felt as if he’d stalled.

Jonny apparently had no such issues. His eyes caught Pat’s briefly before his gaze flicked down to his mouth. In the space of a few seconds, he’d moved into Pat’s space.

“Do you?” he started to ask.

“Yeah, fuck yes,” Pat said, finding his words quickly.

“Yeah,” Jonny breathed, leaning in to bring his mouth to Pat’s.

The kiss was a collision, filled with all of the combustible pressure that had built up between them. Pat didn’t regret the relieved noise he heard leave his lips because Jonny was just as noisy. As the kiss continued, Jonny pulled Pat to him hard, bruising grips on Pat’s arms as if he were afraid Pat was going to drift away.

There was no chance of that. But eventually the sound of a catcall from a drunk passerby reminded them that they were tongue-fucking in the middle of a sidewalk.

“Home?” Jonny asked, his voice hoarse. Pat nodded.

The thought of heading back to his apartment to his roommate never sounded so good.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks go to megan for the beta. Title inspired by the memorable statement Patrick Kane made at the Blackhawks Rally after their 2013 Stanley Cup win - "That's hockey, baby."


End file.
